The new comer took off his hat, and bowed low. "No, I am not Bergan; I am Hubert," he said, but with no friendliness of tone or manner. "And you, I suppose, are my uncle Godfrey. I am come to look for my brother. What have you done with him among you? Where can I find that villanous Doctor Remy, who, four days ago, made one attempt on his life (or on mine, mistaking me for him), and has now probably—"
He was startled and silenced by a low, pathetic cry of that found an instant way to his heart, despite its armor of prejudice and anger. At the same moment, Carice fell, white and insensible, across the arm of her chair.
"You have killed her," said Mr. Bergan, not resentfully, but with the still resignation of a man who feels that fate has done its worst for him, and there is little left to dread, and to hope.
"Indeed, I trust not," replied Hubert, earnestly, dismayed at the mischief that he had done, as well as softened by the sweet, death-like face, which, he now knew, was not only the one that still kept its place in Bergan's memory, and would not be cast out, but was correlated to a heart not less interested than his own in Bergan's fate. "I think she has only fainted. Let me take her in, while you summon assistance."
And without waiting for either consent or remonstrance, he lifted her in his strong arms, and carried her to the library. Almost immediately, she showed signs of returning animation. He then withdrew to the piazza, where Mr. Bergan shortly joined him; and explanations were mutually given and received.
Hubert had duly received the notice of his uncle's funeral. It had struck him as a little odd at first, that it should be addressed jointly to his brother and himself; but he set it down as an absurd legal formality, and thought no more about it. He had intended to ride over this morning, in time for the funeral; but just as he was about to start, Mr. Youle had slipped and fallen on the office steps, and received several severe cuts and bruises; which had made it necessary for him to take him home, and do what he could to assist him and reassure his family. Thus it happened that he had arrived at the Hall to find the funeral over, and to learn, to his surprise and alarm, that his brother was not there, and that nothing was known of his whereabouts, except that he was last seen at Oakstead. There, also, he was told Doctor Remy might be found. Accordingly he had hastened thither.
He now proposed to commence an immediate, thorough search for his brother.
"Take my advice," said Mr. Bergan, "and wait a little longer. I have had, all along, an expectation—or, at least, a hope—that my brother's will would give some clue to all these mysteries. The time fixed for the reading is now at hand. Go with me, and be present thereat, as you have a right to be. Then, if we get any clue, I will do my utmost to help you follow it out; if we do not, I shall be equally at your service to seek for one elsewhere."
Chafing at the delay, but unable to suggest anything better to be done, Hubert accompanied his uncle to the Hall. In the library they found a considerable party assembled, discussing Bergan's mysterious disappearance.
"I hope," Doctor Remy was just saying, with apparent concern, "that nothing worse is behind it all, than some foolish whim or escapade"—when, hearing a step at the door, he turned and met Hubert Arling's stern, threatening gaze. In spite of his consummate self-control, he could not help giving a violent start. Recollecting himself instantly, however,—inasmuch as he had just heard of Hubert's previous visit,—he came forward and held out his hand.